Phalaenopsis Orchidea
by ExLibris3
Summary: Tag to Singled Out, with the bouquet of orchids and mystery card on Jen's desk. Jibbs.


_A/N: I found this on my computer and I realized I never posted it. So it's about time. This is a tag to the episode Singled Out, with the bouquet of orchids and mystery card on Jen's desk. Please review!_

**Phalaenopsis Orchidea **

I knew I should have gone home, I had no more work to do, no more reports to sign, nothing that couldn't wait until the next morning. Yet I sat still in my chair, leaned back and legs crossed under the table. My eyes stayed on the bouquet of flowers standing on my desk. I saw the card among the stems. Smiled sadly as I thought of the person who had signed his name on it, paid so much just to get me my favorite flowers. He hadn't known, I told myself, he could never have known I was going to tell him it was over. The flowers had just made it harder than it already was. Though I had enjoyed the four months I'd spent with Todd, I knew it had to end sometime, and that time had come when Jethro returned from Mexico.

I laughed to myself. Who was I kidding? Why break up with the perfect guy just because my ex is back? I didn't even think Jethro had regained all his memories, memories of us. Sure I had been a bit sad when I was told he suffered from amnesia, but I could see on his face, that he remembered me, when I came to visit him at the hospital. It warmed me somewhat. When he told me he was retiring, I didn't see it as a bad thing, and I had no reason to think he was going to leave the country. He broke my heart when he told me he was moving to Mexico. Did he really mean I was never going to see him again? He couldn't be serious. But deep inside, I knew he would be coming back, sooner or later. I knew him that well. Knew that if Jethro didn't find trouble by himself, trouble would go find him.

Problem was, his neurologist had gotten quite fond of me, and I couldn't really deny I saw a certain charm in him too. We shared dinners together. Long nights of talking on the phone, though I couldn't really remember what we talked about, it was mostly him who talked. I listened.

Then Jethro came along again. Because Ziva had called him, and he owed her. I knew I would see him again. He looked different than I though he would. But different in a way that I liked. I liked his hair longer, like he had worn it in Serbia. I pointed that out to him, he said he didn't remember. I didn't show how sad I was. Then he'd left me that photo, it was now resting on my bedside table. I'm impressed that he had taken his time to dig it out. Or maybe it was already out.

I opened a drawer, taking out a photo, also from Serbia, but this time of him, standing outside the cottage, that I had taken. My fingertips trailed over his face, longing to feel his skin against them again.

I thought back to the night I had told Todd it was over. First, surprise had crossed his face, then understanding, as though he suddenly realize something. "I get it, Jenny," he just said, rose from the table, stopped a moment to think, than smiled and said, "Keep the flowers, I know they're your favorite," Then he had left.

The sound of the door slamming open made me jump, I dropped the photo, which landed on the floor at my feet, I didn't bother picking it up.

"I scare you?" Jethro asked, an amused look on his face.

"No, I was just startled," I said, refusing to confess he'd almost scared the crap out of me.

"Sure," he said, and then he became quiet. I looked up, finding his gaze etched upon the flowers. As though he hadn't noticed them being there before, even though he'd been in my office earlier, when they had been there.

He tentatively reached out his hand, his eyes never leaving the flowers. I saw where his hand was heading, and I cleared my throat. Why could no one understand that card was personal?

He smirked, his hand changing direction, instead of picking up the card like he had intended, he gently stroked his fingertips over the soft petals.

"Phalaenopsis orchids," he said quietly. I looked up at him with surprise written over my face.

"What?"

He turned to look at me.

"Your favorites," he looked like he had just realized something. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"I went to every flower shop in Paris trying to find them for you for Valentine's Day. But they were sold out everywhere," his face lit up, proud to be remembering it.

"So you bought me roses instead," I helped trigger his memory. He nodded.

"Yeah…" he trailed off, turning his attention back to the flowers. I knew his fingers were itching to read the card. I cleared my throat again. He turned his head back to me.

"Something you wanna ask me, Jethro?" I didn't know why I asked that, wasn't sure that I wanted him to know I had been seeing his neurologist while he'd been in Mexico.

"Just wondering who else knows these are your favorite flowers," he said quietly. I bit my lip. Trying to decide what would be the best thing to do.

"That doesn't matter. Not anymore," I said. Despite my efforts to keep a straight face, I must have failed, because Jethro looked at me, with his piercing gaze, and I got the feeling he saw right through the façade I had tried to put up.

"What happened?" he asked. I was surprised by the concern in his voice. It couldn't have been something else, could it? Not relief because whoever I had been seeing was no longer in my life? Wake up Jenny.

"He bought me the flowers the same night I had decided to dump him," I confessed.

"So, you're not seeing anyone?" he looked a little smug while asking. I couldn't help but to wonder why he was so interested in my personal life, it was none of his business, not any more.

"That's none of your concern," I retorted, deciding to put up my stubbornness on this one. If he wanted something for me, which I strongly doubted, he would have to fight for it, like he always had had to do.

He tilted his head, observed me with intense eyes.

"You look tense," he stated, and walked around my desk to reach me before I had the chance to stop him. He was always so fast.

"I - - mmhmm," the sentence I had originally been intending on saying turned into a low moan of appreciation as his hands began to rub my shoulders. I hadn't realized how tense I was. Or how good his hands felt on my body. I had almost forgotten what his hands could do to me.

His hands slipped up my neck, his thumbs working in deep circles at the base of my neck. I tilted my head forward, giving him better access.

I wondered if this brought out the same memories for him as it did for me. My muscles were relaxing instantly under his touch, making me feel more relaxed than I had in months. He suddenly placed his lips onto my head. His hands stilled on my shoulders.

"I remember you now," I felt him smiling against my head, but frowned as I realized what he had said. I swirled my chair around to face him.

"Now? You just remembered me now, Jethro?" I questioned, arching one eyebrow.

He smirked.

"I remember how much I loved touching you. How much I loved making you moan," he said, his voice low. I felt my cheeks heat up slightly.

"Wipe that charming blush off your face," he reached to place his hand on my cheek. I closed my eyes and reveled in the sense of his palm against me. It had been such a long time. But I wasn't sure if I dared give in to the touch. He left me no time thinking as I suddenly felt his hands cup my face, his thumb gently caressing my lips before he brought his mouth down onto mine. I gave in completely, let my senses take over, and it felt so damn good to be kissing him again. To feel the ever so familiar mouth onto mine, even though it's been seven years, I still remember how to kiss him. His hand slipped down to under my chin, gripping it as he deepened our kiss, his tongue stroking over mine and felt myself respond, refusing to show any weakness, but forcefully thrust my tongue deeper into his mouth, making him moan, just like he had always done.

His other hand was at the back of my neck as he began to draw back, slowly receding the intensity of the kisses, until it was just lips against lips, touching gently and then he pulled away, leaning his forehead against mine as he breathed heavily, his breath smelled of coffee and it felt familiar on my face. I realized my hands were tangled up in his hair; I loosened my grip as to not hurt him.

"Jen," he whispered against me, his mustache rasping against my skin as he spoke. I wasn't sure I could speak in that moment. Everything seemed to have gone so… quiet. So serene. Confusion tugged at me, it made me even more confused as I tried to figure out why I was feeling confused.

"I've missed you," his voice came, low and raspy. I remembered him saying that the day I became director. Some thing obviously never changed. He pulled away from me slightly as I did not respond. His hands slipped from my face. I caught his wrist just as he was withdrawing from me. He stared down at me. I bit my lip, drawing a deep breath and tried to gather up the courage to tell him what I had not told him then.

"I… I've missed you too," I blurted out, lowering my gaze as I felt unsure of what should be happening next. I felt him crouch in front of me. I lifted my head. The blue eyes were sparkling with life and love and yet there was room for a little desire. Or a lot of desire, I'd say. He stared at me hungrily, as though he was thinking about devouring me. I had no reason to be complaining, as I realized that would be next, it had always been that way with us. Kissing always evoked deeper feelings, and roused to desire and passion in our bodies and this time was no exception. I felt my body ache for his, all the desire it had spent seven years building up was about to be released in a flurry of emotions, I suspected. My heart rate increased, as he leaned into me, and brushed his lips against mine. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. The only thing feeling slightly off was the rasp of the mustache against my upper lip. When this was over, I told myself, because there was no way I'd be putting this off a minute more, I would tell him to lose that damn thing. Because I needed him to be the Jethro I knew, and had always known.

But as his hands slipped around my waist, pulling my body closer to his, I knew that my body had finally found its way back home. And who would have thought, phalaenopsis orchids would bring me back into his arms?

**The End**


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